The Metal Gear Solid Christmas Special
by Locked Heart Ami
Summary: Now with fifty percent more frozen tuna!


THE METAL GEAR SOLID CHRISTMAS SPECIAL By Locked Heart Ami 

Snake shivered as he stood in the cold Alaskan winter, rubbing his shoulders slowly and trying to stay warm. 

"This stinks." He muttered to himself, his breath drifting off frozen into the cold Arctic night.

He could think of _so_ many places he'd rather be.

He had been at home- celebrating Christmas Eve with his best friend Otacon and his fiancé Meryl- when he had received a call on his codec.

"Merry Christmas, Colonel Campbell," Snake had growled. "Want to come down and sing some carols with us?"

"I'm not calling to wish you happy holidays, Snake," the colonel had returned with the gruffness typical of the aging warhorse. "If you can spare an hour or two of merry eggnog drinking with your war buddy and your girlfriend, I need your help."

"I'm listening," said Snake.

"We're receiving distress calls from Shadow Moses Island, off the coast of Alaska. We want you to go check it out."

"Snake, is this going to take long?" Meryl called out from where she was seated playing checkers with Otacon. "I'm assuming that's the Colonel on your codec."

"You heard Meryl," Snake informed Campbell. "Is this going to take long?"

"I doubt it," said Colonel Campbell, rather too brightly. "You should be back by Christmas morning."

"Well, all right," Snake growled. "But you're paying me a nice big Christmas bonus for this, Colonel, make no mistake of that."

Hence, he said goodbye to Meryl and Otacon and left the little log cabin where they were staying, deep in the forests of Nova Scotia. From there, it was an easy matter of stealing a nearby helicopter, which, by chance, was equipped with a speed booster, and carefully piloting it to Shadow Moses Island.

When he saw the island looming on his radar, complete with distress signal near the north end, Snake stopped eating saltines and landed the helicopter. Stepping out, the icy wind hit him like a can of tomatoes falling off of a bulk food store shelf. 

Shivering, he grated, "This distress call had better be important. I can't see how someone alone, isolated and in danger on a sub-zero island in the Arctic Sea is more important than me spending time with my best friend and girlfriend." 

With that, he stretched and began to run towards the distress signal, snow forcing him to rely on his radar like a Star Wars movie relies on cheap plastic action figures.

Eventually, the aforementioned radar told him he was nearing his target. "Is there anyone out there?" He called into the Alaskan night in a murmur. "I'm very busy and don't have time to wait around to save you!"

"Over here," called a feeble, ancient voice from behind Snake, and he whirled. Gasping like a couch potato trying to keep up with a college track star, Snake exclaimed, "Santa Claus!"

It was, indeed, Saint Nick, complete with red suit and bag of toys. However…

"Santa," Snake said as carefully as a golfer measuring his swing, "Where's your sled?"

"Well," said Santa, "I'm afraid I'm not really sure. I was just flying along, getting ready to deliver a present to-" he checked his list- "David Hayter, when, all of a sudden… my sled was gone."

"Just like that?" Snake gulped, his mouth hanging open, looking for all the world like a secret agent who had just been informed of something shocking by a neo-mythological figure (which, of course, he was.)

"Just like that," agreed Santa.

Suddenly, out of the darkness, a loud voice with a thick and posh English accent called, "BROTHER!"

Snake jumped like a kangaroo and whirled.

***

Out of the darkness glided Solid Snake's archenemy, Liquid Snake. The pale aristocrat wore an expression of malice and seemed to float over the ground in exactly the way an anvil would not.

"I stole Santa's sleigh, _brother_," Liquid snarled with a sneer.

"But Liquid-" gasped Snake- "_Why_?"

"Because," said Liquid Snake, his lip curling like the top of the S in the word shalashaska (which, incidentally, is Russian for prison), "When I was a little boy, I never got Christmas presents." He sniffed. "I suppose people assumed that because I was a genetically modified and mentally unstable killer I wouldn't need them." Suddenly, Liquid Snake's lower lip began to tremble like a pencil in an electric pencil sharpener. "But now-" he finished, punctuating his malevolent monologue with sobs-"No one is going to get Christmas presents! MWA HA HA HA!" he then proceeded to laugh maniacally and cry like a girl's maid of honor on her wedding day.

Snake and Santa Claus exchanged disturbed glances. What could they do to save Liquid Snake's holiday season? And how could they get the gifts to the children on time?

Suddenly- the answer hit Snake like a frozen tuna!

"Liquid." He growled. "You grew up in an English scientific center, didn't you?"

"Yes," cried Liquid Snake.

"Did you even have a chimney?"

All the action in the scene seemed to freeze like the freeze-frame at the end of a soap opera. Then Liquid Snake smiled jubilantly. "You're _right_! I _didn't_ have a chimney!"

"I tried to get in to bring you gifts," agreed Santa, "But I always hit the roof, in the non-metaphorical fashion. I'm sorry you never got any Christmas presents." He rummaged in his bag. "Here's what I got you this year, if you like." He presented Liquid with a pretty cell phone case.

"Oh, thank you, Santa," said Liquid. "Now I think you have some gifts to deliver!"

With that, he snapped his fingers and the reindeer drew up Santa's sleigh.

Santa smiled. "Liquid Snake, Solid Snake, you two understand the true meaning of Christmas. Do you want to come with me to deliver my gifts?"

Liquid Snake beamed and eagerly bounded into Santa's sleigh like a bullfrog that had swallowed Mexican jumping beans. Snake took a little longer.

"I'll go with you, Santa," he said, "But would you mind dropping me off at Nova Scotia Provincial Park? The only place for a man with no family on Christmas Eve is… well, with his family."

*

Well, needless to say, Otacon and Meryl were as surprised as a random fangirl when she found out her idol wanted to be an assassin when they looked out the window and saw Santa, Liquid Snake, and Solid Snake flying towards them in Santa's sleigh. As soon as they landed, Meryl eagerly bounded out the door, jumped into Santa's lap and informed him that she had been a _very_ good girl and really, really_, really_ wanted a new Desert Eagle Pistol . . . .

Meanwhile, Otacon went to the two Snakes, who were standing beside Santa's sleigh.

"Here, Otacon," said Solid Snake gruffly and handed him a wrapped package from Santa's bag. "Don't quote me on this, but I'm betting it's a laptop."

"Thanks, Snake," said Otacon, and took the package. "What happened to that helicopter you took up?"

"I left it there," said Snake nonchalantly. "I'm sure they'll find it."

"So," Otacon continued, pouring Liquid Snake some mulled apple cider from a thermos, "What exactly happened, anyway? I've never known you two to be so friendly."

"I think," said Santa, looking over from under Meryl, "Liquid Snake discovered the true Christmas spirit."

"That's right," said Liquid, sipping his cider with a contented air like that of a ripe pomegranate. "It doesn't matter if you're a genetically engineered government black-op- Christmas brings everyone together, clones with altered DNA and regular folk alike."

"Isn't that the truth," agreed Meryl, and smiled in a placid manner like that of that same teenage fangirl who had just listened to her new Christmas CD.

"I'm glad you discovered the true meaning of Christmas, Liquid," growled Snake in as happy a manner as a man like him could achieve. "Have a good one, brother."

"Yes," agreed Liquid Snake, "God bless us, every one!"

THE

          END


End file.
